


Time and Time Again

by kissmyapplejuice, MaybeMayura



Category: GabeNath - Fandom, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst to Fluff, Drunk Driving, F/M, GabeNath Reverse Bang, GabeNath Reverse Bang 2020, Implied Cheating, It’s got the feel of Groundhog’s Day just with a lot more pain and angst, Marital Problems, Mentions of alcohol, Mild Language, Non-Chronological, Not Canon Compliant, Talks of Divorce, established AU, fuck Audrey juice, fuck emilie juice, gabriel is an idiot, in multiple ways, no miraculous, off-camera accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissmyapplejuice/pseuds/kissmyapplejuice, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeMayura/pseuds/MaybeMayura
Summary: The stress of being a young designer trying to make it in the fashion industry is taking its toll, and Gabriel’s and Nathalie’s marriage is slowly unraveling.They’ve stood the tests of life since their first year of university, but when everything comes crashing down, Gabriel finds himself stuck reliving the day it happened. Failing and falling, time and time again with every passing ‘day’. Why is he here? How can he stop it? The answer lies in a choice as to what matters more: his career or the woman who has stood by him through it all.
Relationships: Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth & Audrey Bourgeois, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur, one-sided Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Emilie Graham de Vanily
Comments: 19
Kudos: 28
Collections: GabeNath Book Club and Art Club Server, GabeNath Reverse Bang 2020





	1. The Start

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TyeDyeBoogers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyeDyeBoogers/gifts).



> Go look at [TyeDyeBoogers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyeDyeBoogers/pseuds/TyeDyeBoogers) amazing are [here](https://tehhappypl-ace.tumblr.com/post/638317843841236992/fic-time-and-time-again-author-maybemayura) on her tumblr.
> 
> Finally, after months of cutting and crying and crackhead screeching, [MaybeMayura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeMayura) and I can finally present Time and Time Again.

Their love story started off like a sappy rom-com.

Boy meets girl by running into her on the first day of class, spilling the contents of their bags all over the ground. Girl gets mad at boy as she chases down papers, but then their eyes meet and it’s love at first sight.

Being eighteen and in love can mask the hardships of the world, but they thought they had weathered the worst of the storms in those first few years. Frantic class schedules. Summers apart. Drunken fights. Gabriel knew anything was possible with Nathalie by his side even in the worst times. Her smile was his beacon. Her strength, his rock. He proposed before the end of their third year, and by the end of university, she was his wife and he, her husband.

When they moved into their apartment, the first thing they did was hang up their wedding photo, a reminder of their love and the dreams they had. Nathalie took a dead-end job to pay their bills while Gabriel struggled to build his brand. For three years, their relationship rose and fell. From Gabriel’s industry missteps to Nathalie feeling more overwhelmed with each day, everything became harder to handle as reality set in.

Nathalie hates her wedding portrait now. The happy couple mocks her of a time when life was easier, and they no longer reflect the one in the apartment. There was no more dancing. No more laughter. Just hours of work and growing frustration in unsaid words and unshed tears.

Her alarm clock blares as she drags herself out of bed, desperate for coffee after only three hours of rest. The empty space next to her reminds her that her husband rarely sleeps next to her. 

Nathalie presses her forehead against the cold shower tiles and lets herself silently cry.

_Just one more day. One more day until Gabriel’s big break and they can finally get back to that carefree couple that haunts her memory._

* * *

Gabriel hears the familiar jingle of Nathalie’s keys, and the irritating sound slowly brings him out of his restless slumber. He touches his phone so the screen shows him the time.

_5:14 PM._

He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he peels himself away from his arm, his cheek red from being pressed into it instead of his pillow. His final design meeting with Audrey is in just under two hours. Looking over to the corner of the room, he sees his finished prototype hanging on the dress form, the late afternoon sun glistening against the fabric. The utter exhaustion he felt seeping into his very bones had been worth it. His smile fades as the front door swings open to reveal Nathalie returning from her unfulfilling desk job. Their sleepless nights seemed to be the only thing they shared nowadays. He sighs as he gets up, whether to greet her or shut himself in the bathroom to escape her tired eyes and one-syllable responses, he doesn’t know. 

His phone rings as she steps inside, and their eyes connect across the small expanse of their studio apartment. 

_Are you going to answer it?_ She raises her eyebrow at him and steps through the threshold, keys still jingling. 

He steels himself as he answers. This could only be one person, and he can’t think why she’s calling. 

“Hello?” 

“Gabriel, darling. How are you?” Audrey’s voice warbles through the speaker as Nathalie busies herself in the kitchen. 

“I’m fine, I just finished my—”

“Good, good!” She cuts him off. _Typical Audrey_. “I just want to let you know I’m pulling you from the show.” 

Gabriel feels his blood run cold, and he grips the phone tighter. “I-I’m sorry, what?” 

“The show this weekend, darling. I’ve found another designer whose work I simply _must_ have instead, so don’t bother coming to our meeting this evening. I hope you aren’t too upset! You know how it is in the industry—ahaha!” 

With that final statement twisting cruelly in his guts, she hangs up. Gabriel growls and rakes his hands through his hair, her laughter still echoing in his ears. 

Nathalie looks at him, her expression unchanging, “What’s wrong?” 

“ _G_ _od fucking dammit--_ she pulled me from the show.” He throws his phone onto the couch cushions and starts to pace, resisting the urge to grab the nearest picture frame and launch it into the cabinet.

“Oh,” she says, and something about how flatly it’s delivered—that it was yet _another_ one-syllable answer—infuriates him. 

“Not that _you_ care,” he spat. Her eyes flash; her mouth tightens.

_Good._

She bites it down, like she always does, and stands up from where she was leaning on the counter, “Listen. I don’t want to fight right now. I’ve had a shitty day, and this is the last thing I need.” She moves toward the bathroom, the only other room in their apartment. 

He follows her, determined to keep getting under her skin, “What about _my_ day? Has it not been shitty? I’ve just been denied an opportunity that would jumpstart my whole career. One I’ve been working towards for months. _Is that not shitty_?” He yells at her back, temper boiling over. 

She stops, clenching her fists, and he can practically see her pressing her lips together in an effort to push it down. This time, however, she fails. 

“See, this is what I’m talking about,” her voice is quiet, but holds all the energy of a live electrical wire as she turns to face him, “everything is about you, isn’t it? _Your_ career, _your_ design...have you forgotten who stayed up with you last night to help you finish it?” 

“I’m the one who made it!” 

Nathalie’s face darkens, “And _I’m_ the one who critiques you, who finds your pencils and thread in your _mess_ of a workbench, who makes the money to _buy you your materials,_ who feeds us and pays the rent. I hate my job, Gabriel. You _know_ this, and frankly, I’m feeling _quite_ underappreciated right now.”

“Nathalie, can we for once not make this about you? I don’t want to hear about how your boss said this or your coworker did that. It’s the same problems day after day.”

“Oh,” Nathalie’s eyes narrow into a glare, “I’m sorry _my_ job that pays for your _stupid_ dream bothers you so much. Would you like to go out and make the money, Gabriel? I promise you’ll find less time for designing, but honestly, all you do is complain about how hard it is, so maybe it’ll help.”

“That’s not what I mean, Nathalie! I just had my biggest break get ripped out from under me. I want to be mad.”

“Not at the expense of me, Gabriel! I’m not your punching bag!”

“I haven’t touched you!”

“My god, _you_ _idiot_ , I don’t mean literally!” Nathalie wipes a few stray tears as she starts to lose control.

He swallows his anger into something more manageable when he sees her tears. Nathalie doesn't cry, “Dearest…one day it’ll work out. Come here.” He says, opening his arms, but she slaps his hands away.

“Don’t you _dare_ ‘dearest’ me…! The only thing dear to your heart is your fucking illusion that one day you’ll be successful, and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of _you.”_ She averts her eyes, “I want a divorce.” 

All the air leaves his lungs. She says it quietly, implying she has been thinking about it for some time. With that simple sentence, gone is their storybook romance, their eight years of struggling towards a goal she apparently didn’t share anymore.

Gabriel turns stiffly, mannequin-like, and walks straight out the door. 

* * *

Gabriel doesn’t know where he’s going. He only knows as he gets in his car that he’s furious. Who does she think she is, deciding to abandon him like this? He needs her. He _l_ _oves_ her. 

Didn’t he...?

He thinks as he drives aimlessly through the city. Of course, he did, but he can’t shake the feeling of creeping doubt

He needs something to banish these thoughts. Unconsciously, Gabriel finds himself in front of the bar he frequents, so he parks and heads in. He slumps into a stool and orders a double whiskey on the rocks. This would get him fucked up. He begins drinking like he’s a drowning man.

“Rough day?” The owner, Tom, asks as he polishes a glass, smiling kindly at him. 

Gabriel harshly sets his glass on the bartop, “You know. Married life.” _Though, I might not be married much longer._

Tom looks at him, “Ah, actually, I’m not sure I do.” His eyes soften as he glances over toward the petite dark-haired woman talking to a blonde customer. 

_Right_. Of course, the Dupain-Chengs have a famously perfect marriage. He takes another sip. 

“What’s on your mind, Agreste? You and Nathalie okay?”

Gabriel huffs as he finishes the drink, slamming it down while motioning for another, “For weeks I’ve been waking up to her damn alarm after endless days and nights of working on my piece for that show I told you about.”

“Yea, how’s that going?” Tom pours him another drink.

“I got the phone call _right before the fucking thing_ , that I’m no longer in it.”

“That’s rough, buddy.” Gabriel shoots back the newly poured whiskey like it’s water.

“But does Nathalie give me any sympathy? No. She complains about how I’m not appreciating her.”

“Well, have you?” Gabriel watches as Tom pours him another, and as the amber liquid falls into the glass he contemplates the burly man’s words.

“There hasn’t been time.”

“Marriage takes time, Gabriel.”

“Well, that explains why mine is going to pieces.” 

“Love is a choice.”

“Well, then I don’t want it.”

* * *

Gabriel leaves the bar later that evening in a fog. He’s grateful for the wall of alcohol guarding him from his emotions as he heads towards his car, his steps unwilling and unhappy. 

“Well, it’s not like it matters anymore,” he says aloud as his fingers fumble for the ignition, “if I come home drunk...she’ll know why.” 

He drives home knowing in the back of his brain that he shouldn’t be doing this, but he doesn’t live far. He isn’t even sure he wants to be at home tonight, so he can drive as slow as he wants. 

The traffic light coming up is yellow. When had it turned yellow? He watches it turn red as his tires speed over the white line. In the heartbeat before anything happens, he has a flash of clarity and knows he doesn't have the time nor the reflexes to stop as a truck comes barrelling into the intersection. 

All at once: the squeal of tires fills the air, his body jerks violently against his seatbelt, the sickening sound of crunching metal and shattering glass; an immense pressure in his head. 

Then a white, ringing silence. 


	2. Day 1

The infernal alarm clock beeping meant it was seven AM. He groans as the waxing daylight streams in through the curtains. He had slept sitting at his desk, head pillowed on his arms, joints stiff from his despicably short amount of rest. Gabriel hates Nathalie’s alarm; the sound had been a point of contention for years. She argued that the classic beep made it easier for her to get up, but it burrows into his brain and refuses to let him sleep past it. 

The sound of rustling sheets follows Nathalie hitting the off button as she rolls out of bed to shower. Soon, the gurgling of the coffee pot sends the rich smell of roasting beans to his nose. They don’t speak as she pours some into a travel mug, grabs a granola bar, and pockets her keys. Nathalie gives him an impartial goodbye kiss against his cheek, a routine more than anything.

Then she’s gone, leaving Gabriel alone. The silence of the apartment brings the events of last night to his groggy brain and everything floods back.

There had been...an accident. The details are fuzzy as if he’s hungover. However, the other symptoms after a wild night out are suspiciously absent. 

The room snaps into focus, and Gabriel looks around for anything out of place. When his eyes fall on the dress form in the corner, he panics. The dress sits sans its finishing touches. He’d already completed it, hadn’t he? The odd feeling intensifies as his hands fly along hems and zippers even though he swears he’s done this before. 

He pauses stitching. Hadn’t Nathalie said she wanted a divorce? Why had she kissed him goodbye, like usual? He touches his cheek. Why had nothing changed? Had it just been a vivid dream? He returns to whipstitching the last hem into place, and stands back to look at the finished piece.

It’s a beautiful dress. A deep wine-red with a full skirt and fabric that crosses at the bust to slip artfully off the shoulder. Simple, classic, stunning. His eyes drift to the wedding portrait in the living area. He had designed her wedding dress, too, the one she wore in that iconic photograph. 

Interestingly, the cuts of the two garments are similar. Between that and the fact that the dress form is Nathalie’s size, he can’t escape her even if he wanted to. 

Gabriel pinches the bridge of his nose. He really is tired as he sinks down onto the couch, intent on napping before his meeting that evening. 

* * *

He isn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, but Nathalie’s key in the lock pulls him from the rolling waves of sleep. He groans and sits up to swing his heavy legs over the edge of the bed to greet her.

It isn’t until their eyes meet and Gabriel’s phone rings does everything click crystal clear into place. 

Could this be the same day? 

Nathalie nods at the phone. _Are you going to answer it?_ Her eyes say, and the motion fills him with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. This meant...this means he knows what’s going to happen. What Audrey is about to say. What Nathalie is about to do. 

He picks up the phone. 

“Hello?” 

“Gabriel, darling. How are you?” His head traces Audrey’s words like a Disney sing-along as Nathalie busies herself in the kitchen. 

“I’m fine, I just finished my—”

“Good, good!” She cuts him off, exactly as before, “I just want to let you know I’m pulling you from the show.” 

He sucks in a breath. “It _is_ the same,” he mutters and cringes. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“...I, what? Darling, what are you talking about? Either way, don’t bother coming to our meeting tonight. I’ve found another designer whose work I simply _must_ have instead. I hope you aren’t too upset— _ahaha!_ ” 

_Click._

The line goes dead. His pride still smarted at her words, but the more pressing matter was that _he was re-living the exact same day_.

He slowly lowers the phone, eyes wide and mind racing. 

“What’s wrong?”

Gabriel jerks at Nathalie’s voice, “I—nothing. Audrey pulled me from the show.” This was where he had gotten angry and lashed out last time. This is where he can change the course if this is real.

Nathalie frowns, “You mean she told you that, and you just took it? You didn’t try to change her mind? Gabriel, our future is at stake!” 

Gabriel’s attention snaps to her, the familiar rage burning in his stomach and all caution is thrown out the window. “ _Our_ future?! It’s not our future! It’s mine!”

“Oh,” Nathalie sets down a glass with a thud. “I suppose I’ve just been doing all of this for shits and giggles? Working at a job that I hate; working for my husband afterward?”

“Come off your high horse, Nathalie! Every night is about you and your problems. Can tonight just be about me and mine?”

“Not if you’re going to be a child about it.”

Gabriel runs his hand down his face, trying to quell his anger, and hopes that this argument won’t end like the last one.

“...And another thing, I rarely complain about my problems to you because it’s not like you appreciate my sacrifices.”

That does it. In frustration, he takes his sewing scissors, and slices open the front of the dress. It peels away from the form to drop softly to the floor.

Nathalie’s jaw drops, “What the _fuck?_ _Why_ would you do that? We worked _for months_ to get that ready!” 

“Who cares?! Didn’t you hear me say that I was pulled from the show?”

“There will be other shows!”

“No there won’t, because it’s clear we’ve given up!”

“The only one that’s given up on your brand is you.” Nathalie grabs pins from the workbench to roughly fix the dress, but Gabriel hits the box out of her hand. Nathalie pushes him away from her.

_“I’m done, Gabriel! I give up. I want a divorce!”_ She screams, but Gabriel is already rushing out the door. 

* * *

This time, he walks to the bar. He can’t shake the horrible feeling of what will happen if he drives. Upon arriving, he sits down at a table instead of the bartop and puts his head in his hands. 

What could he do? Would he be stuck living this horrible day forever? 

A waft of perfume and click of heels makes him look up. A smiling woman with soft pink lipstick and blonde hair in loose curls over her shoulder stands over him. 

_Fuck_.

“Emilie Graham de Vanily.” He had seen her last night—or whatever he would call the previous iteration of today. She’s Audrey’s favorite protégée, and the _last_ thing he wants to think about right now is Audrey. 

“Hello, Gabriel, I heard you had a bad day.” Her voice is sympathetic with an undercurrent of _something else_ as she pulls out a chair. She waves at a passing Sabine Cheng and orders two drinks. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says flatly. 

She responds with a smile that washes the clutter from the corners of his mind, “Don’t mention it. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Her eyes shift as their drinks arrive, and he takes a sip of something fruity. 

Well, if she was offering to listen, he might as well talk.

By the time he leaves the bar to walk home, his inebriated brain is swirling with yellow and green. He stumbles up the stairs and collapses to instantly fall asleep on the couch, the events of the day evaporating like a puddle in the sun.


	3. Day 2

That _fucking_ alarm clock. He would never be rid of it. 

He’s once again sitting at his desk. Hadn’t he gone to bed on the couch? Oh. _Right_. Well, at least this meant he’d never get a hangover. 

Nathalie fills his senses; the shower, the coffee pot, the keys, the brush of her lips on his cheek as she hurries off to work. He hardly notices her because he’s thinking of someone else. 

His eyes fall on the intact dress and he wishes it had remained ruined, a fitting symbol of his marriage. His attention is stolen by a vision of Emilie from last night, and his heart starts to speed up under her familiar gaze.

The shadows grow across the floor signaling to him that time is passing, but Emilie keeps dancing in and out of his vision. The way her golden hair cascades over her shoulder. How her emerald eyes twinkle in the lowest of lights. Her bright smile. She’s perfect.

His eyes start drifting shut as exhaustion overtakes him.

* * *

The sound of Nathalie’s keys jolts him out of his dreams of Emilie. 

The phone rings and Gabriel feels the dread start again. He groans when his eyes open to Nathalie throwing her purse onto the floor with a huff, her expression reading the familiar _are you going to answer it?_

For once, he doesn’t.

“Gabriel, why didn’t you…?” Her eyes fall onto the unfinished design, “Gabriel! What the fuck!?” 

Nathalie rushes to the dress, her hand reaching for some thread to attempt to finish it.

“Nathalie, stop!” 

“Gabriel, your meeting is in two hours. You need to leave in twenty minutes to get to Audrey’s on time!”

“There is no meeting, Nathalie.” Gabriel peels himself off of the couch with an eye roll. He can’t bring himself to start in on the ‘why’. 

“What do you mean there’s no meeting? Are you giving up?” He looks back at his wife, her expression, confused. Everything about her fills him with rage, and those feelings solidify the decision in his head.

“Yea. Yea, I think I am.” He leaves and slams the door behind him, making his way back to the bar.

* * *

She’s just as beautiful as he remembers. Instead of taking a seat at the table, Gabriel sits next to her and her smile makes his heart skip a beat.

“Hello, Gabriel.”

“Emilie.” He smiles back to her as he orders drinks for the two of them.

“You remember my name,” she blushes and hides her face, “I’m surprised you even want to talk to me after—”

“I think I can disassociate you from Audrey for one night.” Their drinks arrive and Gabriel notes the disapproving look on Tom’s face. What would Mister Perfect-Marriage know?

The two of them laugh all evening, and Gabriel can barely remember the last time he’d been this relaxed. Emilie’s hand drops to his knee, running up his leg as she leans in.

“I think,” her lips tickle the shell of his ear, “we should go somewhere else.”

Gabriel’s inebriated thoughts screech to a halt. Was he really going to cheat on Nathalie?

Emilie places a kiss on his neck and he knows he’s a goner. She leads him out of the bar, and he follows without looking back.

* * *

As Gabriel looks at his reflection in Emilie’s bathroom mirror, he splashes water on his face and wishes it would wash away what he had done. As he stares, the events of the last hour flash back to him.

The best way to describe the evening was euphoric bliss mixed with devastating fallout. Emilie had been responsive and loving, and just, everything he had been missing with Nathalie. It was perfect. 

As Emilie cuddled into his chest, causing his heart to flutter as she pressed a tender kiss onto his skin. He felt her smile against him, but everything came crashing down with her next words.

_“I guess I should tell Audrey to let you back in that I’ve gotten what I wanted. I bet your design is going to be the star of the show.”_

He looks at the man in front of him, and can’t help but feel dirty. Gabriel goes to her living room couch, too disgusted to be near her and too ashamed to go home. His eyes fall shut, and he hopes that tomorrow will come quickly to get rid of the sinking pit in his stomach.


	4. Day 3

Nathalie’s annoying alarm rings at seven AM, and Gabriel jolts awake to the feel of his desktop pressing into his cheek causing an intense wash of relief. If there’s ever a time to wish for a do-over, it’s now. However, the sinking feeling returns when he remembers what he’d done.

The sound of the shower and coffee pot are painful reminders that his wife is fluttering around their small apartment. The woman who had helped him with his dream for the last eight years, and though she had been quietly thinking about divorce, loves him unconditionally. She had chosen him again and again, and what had he done to choose her? Cheated on her with a woman who was only pretty on the surface.

He steps into the kitchen as she slips on her shoes, and the tingle of her kiss remains even after she closes the door. He gently touches his fingertips to his cheek. 

He has to fix this. He has to get out of this loop. He starts to pace as he ponders. Why was he stuck, anyway? Was the universe trying to tell him something? Lately, the biggest problems in his life are his wife and Audrey’s show, in which Emilie had a hand in removing him. Maybe if he fixes the show, everything will go back to normal. 

He knows what he has to do as he ties his shoes, half-baked plans swirling in his head.

He leaves his design, once again unfinished, in the apartment as he goes to hunt down Emilie. 

* * *

He knows she’ll be with Audrey at _le Grand Paris_ hotel. Emilie had mentioned having a small press function earlier in the day yester- today, in conversation at the bar last ni- tonight. This was getting difficult. 

Emilie is in full glory in the grand ballroom. Her hair and makeup are flawless, but the sweetness of her sours in his nose at the memory of her words. 

_“I guess I should tell Audrey to let you back in now that I’ve gotten what I want. I bet your design is going to be the star of the show.”_

It makes his blood boil. He steps up onto the platform. 

“Gabriel!” Emilie’s voice is strained. “To what do we owe this… _surprise_ visit?” 

“You told Audrey to take me out of the show,” her mouth rounds into an ‘o’ of surprise, but the flickering of her eyes confirms it. “And then seduced me and made me cheat on my wife.”

“I did no such thing!” Emilie’s shocked face turns towards the cluster of paparazzi, and her eyes fall on Audrey, begging for a way out. This woman really is a piece of work. 

“You did and I can prove it.” Gabriel grabs hold of Emilie’s wrist, pulling her towards him, “You have a birthmark that matches your twin’s on your left side.” Emilie looks away and he knows he has her. “You both hide them from the world because they are obvious marks of imperfection, but you aren’t perfect, are you?”

“I don’t...how do you…?” Emilie trips over her words, signaling the photographers that he’s right

“I trusted you. I opened up about my marriage and career issues, and it turns out that the latter was your fault. You asked Audrey to pull me so you could seduce me by providing a comforting shoulder.” He can see the confusion in Emilie’s eyes. They hadn’t slept together—at least not in this timeline—but that didn’t excuse her sabotage. Gabriel turns his attention to Audrey.

“Can you deny that’s why?” Audrey’s mouth bobs like a fish’s, unable to come up with the words. Her silence confirms her guilt. 

His grip on Emilie’s wrist tightens as she struggles desperately to pull away, but Gabriel’s attention is still on Audrey, “ _Put me back in the show, or else I’ll—”_

A camera flashes, immortalizing the moment in time. 

* * *

Gabriel groans and rubs his face as he scrolls through the headlines on his computer screen. 

“ _U_ _p-And-Coming Designer Gabriel Agreste Holds Starlet Captive On Affair Accusations.”_

_“Gabriel Agreste Threatens Mentor Audrey Bourgeois Over Being Cast Aside.”_

_“Who Does He Think He Is? Young Designer Trashes Career In One Scorching Conversation.”_

The front door slams. Gabriel’s eyes jerk to the wall clock. 5:14 PM. Nathalie’s footsteps are hard on the floor as she stalks to the couch and throws her phone next to him, and he cringes at the early appearances of her temper. 

“What is _this?”_ She says jabbing her finger at his screen. His mouth opens, but she cuts him off. “Never mind. I already know. I had to avoid _all_ my coworkers when the story broke five hours ago because my boss wasn’t going to let me leave early _just_ because my husband is an _idiot_!”

Gabriel notices absently his phone should be ringing, but it isn’t. For once, he finds himself wanting Audrey to call just so he has an excuse to escape Nathalie’s rage. 

“It’s…it’s not what it seems.” 

“It’s _exactly_ what it seems.” She points at the photo under every headline, the one of himself holding a cowering Emilie captive while yelling at an off-camera Audrey. “I should be angry that you cheated on me, but for some odd reason, I’m furious that you threw away all our hard work. You’ve ruined your career, for what? Because you found out that she manipulated the situation to sleep with you?” He cringes at his memories. “You’ll be left out to dry forever. Everybody knows that the Graham de Vanilys’ _run_ the entertainment industry! 

He feels a surge of indignance and looks her in the eyes, “It won’t be forever.” 

She straightens, shaking her head in exasperation. “What is _that_ supposed to mean? I don’t know what’s gotten into you. You’re not the Gabriel I married.” She sucks in a breath, “I want a—”

He stands straight up from his chair as the room suddenly feels claustrophobic, “I know. I _know._ A divorce.” He brushes past her towards the bathroom, and turns back to her shocked expression at him having stolen her words. “Please, Nathalie. I’m trying to fix it. Let’s just...go to bed.” She bristles, temper not yet cooled. 

“I don’t know how you’re going to _fix_ this, but—” 

“ _Pl_ _ease.”_

She turns away at the uncharacteristic plea, muttering responses under her breath. He notes the bags under her eyes and figures she’s probably too tired to argue.

Gabriel waits until she’s asleep to come out of hiding and settles uncomfortably onto their worn-out couch, his legs sticking off the end.

This isn’t the end of the world, he thinks to himself as he drifts into an uneasy sleep. He assumes when the alarm clock goes off in the morning, he’ll have another chance to get it right.


	5. Days 4 to 12

Another chance he gets. And another. And another. He starts a record of how many days he’s spent in limbo, each starting with the alarm clock, the crushing tiredness, and the eeriness of Nathalie’s morning calm. Every time she kisses him goodbye, he can’t help but feel a little worse for taking more than he gives. 

It starts to factor into his efforts to desperately reclaim his spot in the show. He’s running out of things to throw at Audrey and Emilie. A heated phone conversation—to avoid the press—came to no avail.

So did bargaining— _“What can you give me that I don’t already have?”_ —and blackmail— _“You’re nothing without me, Gabriel.”_ He tried to pit them against each other, but they laughed. 

He even tried pity, but there’s a reason he wasn’t an actor. He’d rather forget that one. 

With every failure, he’s increasingly tired of being stuck. Whatever path he takes, it always ends the same way: Nathalie screaming she wants a divorce and him having still no job. 

Gabriel has one last shot left in him. This time, he’s going to confront Audrey directly in private.

The sound of Nathalie fluttering about her normal morning routine brings him a strange sense of calm. She retreats into the bathroom, and Gabriel peels himself off his desk and towards the kitchen. Today would end differently. He sets to work making them a simple breakfast of poached eggs and toast. It’s nothing fancy, but he has to start somewhere.

Gabriel plates the food as Nathalie steps out of the bathroom, looking confused when she notices he’s moved. She turns towards him, and her eyes go wide when she sees him in the kitchen.

“Gabriel?” Nathalie hesitantly approaches, and her movements cause him a pang of sadness. Had it really been that long since he cooked her breakfast?

“It’s not much but,” Gabriel hands her a plate, “it’s better than your granola bar.”

She takes it, and the two of them sit at the island that hasn’t seen a shared meal in ages.

The silence is deafening as Gabriel watches his wife eat. “So,” he clears his throat, causing her to look back at him, “what’s happening at work today?”

Nathalie’s eyebrow quirks up, “I have a lot of client meetings to help finalize some deals, and a couple of them are hesitant about signing. They haven’t liked that Nadja and I are in charge.”

Suddenly, all of her frustration clicks. She had lost some clients. That’s why she’d had a shitty day, and Gabriel feels overwhelmingly guilty. He hadn’t been listening, and now that he is, he understands the weight on Nathalie’s shoulders.

“Well,” Nathalie looks at the clock, “I have to go.” She stands, giving him his traditional cheek kiss, “Thank you for breakfast. I’ll see you tonight.”

However, it isn’t enough for him. Gabriel catches her hand and pulls her back towards him, covering her lips with his as he wraps his fingers around the back of her neck. As they pull away, he sees a tiny glint in her eyes as she smiles.

His thumb runs over her cheek as he returns her sentiment, “Go kick ass today.”

“Okay.” A subtle blush tints her cheeks as she disappears out the door.

His heart is still beating like a hummingbird’s, the smile plastered on his face long after she’s gone. Those feelings are all the motivation he needs as he gets ready for his one last attempt. 

* * *

Behind the ballroom doors of the _le Grand Paris_ is his last try to have it all. He pushes them open and walks inside with nerves on edge. 

Audrey is the first to look over at him, and her face tightens behind her large sunglasses and hat.

“Gabriel!” Her heels click towards him and his eyes flicker to Emilie, who looks over. Her gaze sends a disgusted shiver up his spine.

“Good morning, Madame Bourgeois. I was hoping for a word.”

“Couldn’t it have waited, darling?” Her annoyance is clear, but Gabriel knows he has to stand firm.

“No, because I think you know why I’m here. I’ve heard a rumor about my place in your show, and I want to discuss it. Can we go somewhere private?”

“Very well,” Audrey turns around to the crew, “Colette, or whatever your name is, carry on with the shoot. I have to cater to Gabriel for a moment.” She waves her hand at him to follow. 

They take the elevator to her private floor, and he goes over his plan again as they enter her suite. She reclines in her chaise lounge and looks at him, and Gabriel freezes knowing she wants him to speak. He takes a deep breath and steels himself.

_For Nathalie. For your marriage._

“Madame Bourgeois, it’s come to my attention that I’ll be getting a call saying I’m no longer in the show, even though my otherworldly designs were something that you wanted tied to your name.”

“Who told you that?” Audrey’s posture suddenly becomes rigid, “I need to fire them.”

“It doesn’t matter who. I’ve been toiling away at my design to meet your demands because you believed in me, so I will ask: is it true?”

“I’m sorry, darling, but I have found another—”

“Did Emilie put you up to this?” Gabriel watches her tense again, “She’s made it clear that she wants me, and from what I know, she’s accustomed to getting what she wants. I’m a married man, but I have no doubt that because she has your ear that she’d try to ruin me.”

“Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! Do you truly think that low of me?”

“Of course not,” Gabriel feels the world implode as he tries to regain his footing, “but I believe that Emilie would sabotage me. She told me last week when she asked me to dinner that I would regret saying no, and just—”

“Look, Gabriel, your designs are outstanding. I’d love to have you in my show, but I’ve found another designer that comes with a lot more,” She gestures to him, “ _class_ , and I need her instead.”

“Audrey, please! I—”

“There will be other opportunities,” Audrey peers over her sunglass frames with piercing blue eyes, “but you don’t get to come into my home and tell me I would throw my integrity out the window for Emilie’s silly little crush on you.”

“The Graham de Vanily’s run the entertainment industry. You run a magazine. You have to see why I would think—” She holds up her hand to stop him.

“You’re being ridiculous, Gabriel, and I have a shoot to get back to. If I have another show where I feature new designers I’ll give you a call, but it’s just not in the cards right now. Have a good day.” With one last huff, Audrey leaves him alone in her vast suite.

Crippling defeat seeps into Gabriel’s bones as he falls to her couch, and for the first time during this whole situation, he weeps.

* * *

Gabriel drags himself up the stairs of his apartment after a day spent aimlessly wandering around Paris. He had considered meeting Nathalie after work but decided against it, not ready to face the feeling of failure.

He had been living in this hellscape of repeating days for over a week, but he had spent it all trying to save something he apparently wasn’t supposed to have.

Perhaps he needs to focus on his wife. As he reflects on this morning—the companionable silence of eating breakfast—he can’t recall the last time they were that content. The prospect of rekindling his love for Nathalie causes a smile to creep onto his face. Her expression from this morning after he had kissed her was a long-forgotten sight. Nathalie was miserable to the point where she thought divorce was their only option. When was the last time he had seen her smile before today? It was a faded memory.

His hand pauses on their apartment’s door handle when he hears muffled music behind it. He checks to make sure it’s the right number, and curiously cracks the door open.

His fluttering heart drops into his stomach at what he sees. 

Nathalie is dancing around the island, their song _‘With A Girl Like You’_ playing through her phone speakers and the smell of a delicious dinner permeating the air. He hadn’t seen her dance since the beginning years of their marriage. That had been something they’d done together _,_ and he misses it. He remembers with a painful twist the image of their wedding portrait.

Gabriel feels daggers in his lungs as he watches her. The carefree nature of her movements, the sound of her laugh, and their song falling from her lips. He can’t shake the feeling she’s happy because he isn’t there _._

He shuts the door as softly as he can before stumbling back down the stairs, tears blurring his vision. He runs and doesn’t stop until he can no longer breathe, choking on the lump in his throat that threatens to suffocate him. 

She was happier without him. 

He goes to an unknown bar and drinks until he’s numb. His phone rings a few times, but he ignores it while throwing back another drink until blindly staggering out a few hours later. The sight of Paris mocks him, and as he looks around the area, he notices where his brain had taken him. Across the street, there’s the park where they had gone on their first date. It had been a simple picnic, but that day had solidified the thought that he was going to marry Nathalie. 

He sits on the familiar bench and finally looks at his phone. There are four voicemails from Nathalie, and he opens the first.

_“Hey, Gabriel, it’s almost eight-thirty. I thought you’d be home by now. I noticed the dress was still here and not done. Did Audrey say she didn’t need to see it? I made your favorite dinner since you made breakfast. Hurry home.”_

The next one plays.

_“Gabriel, it’s nearly ten. Where are you?”_

_“It’s just me again. Um, can you call me?”_

_“I’m going to start calling hospitals if you don’t answer!”_

Gabriel sinks deeper into the bench and lets the weight of her voice sink in. She had been making dinner for him. She was worried about him. 

This was all his fault.

He sends her a message to let her know that he’s okay, but the meeting had gone terribly and he’d come home later.

His eyes begin to close, and he knows that tomorrow he’ll wake up and do this all over again. Except this time, he’d be doing it for her. 


	6. Day 13

Nathalie’s fist slams into the alarm clock, Gabriel awakens with his cheek pressed to his desk, and he listens to her getting ready. He steals into the kitchen because making her breakfast had felt nice and he wants to do it again. As he poaches the eggs and readies the toast, he has a thought. 

What else could he do to show his appreciation? 

Nathalie walks out of the bathroom and looks at him with the familiar confusion and he follows the script from yesterday, but in the back of his mind, he’s forming a plan. He kisses her as she leaves. He doesn’t want to let her go, but with any luck, he’ll be seeing her soon. 

He ignores the dress and climbs into bed. He closes his eyes and breathes in the faint traces of her shampoo, and the scent calms him. He’s going to need some more rest if he’s going to pull this off. 

Gabriel makes his way to the Tour Montparnasse, the imposing building in the Paris skyline, where Nathalie works. He goes to enter the lobby but pauses when he notices some rose bushes ripe with blossoms. He carefully plucks one and goes inside to ask the receptionist to call Nathalie Agreste down to the lobby. Gabriel stands nervously as he waits in the corner, picking the thorns from the stem and letting them fall next to his shoes. 

The elevator nearest to him opens and she steps out, wearing one of her business suits with a deep red turtleneck, hair in a flawless bun, and company tablet in the crook of her arm. For a moment, she doesn’t see him and makes a beeline for the desk. He notices tension in her face that she’s trying to hide in the press of her lips. She must have just lost one of her deals. 

Hopefully, he could make it better. 

“Nathalie.” 

She turns and her eyebrows knit in irritation, “Gabriel,” she sighs, “whatever you’re doing here, I can’t deal with it right now, and—” she looks at her watch “—you’re supposed to be working right now?” 

In response, he brings his hand from behind his back and offers her the rose. 

Her mouth opens slightly. She doesn’t know what to do, and it’s this confusion that makes her slowly reach out and take it. 

“I had a feeling you were having a bad day.”

She shrinks back, “Why are you  _ really  _ here? Don’t tell me you’ve given up on the show…” It feels like she wants to continue, but her voice drops and she glances around the room. Not here. Not now, in this public place. Gabriel sucks in a breath.

“You’re more important than the show,” he says, and before she has time to react, he grabs the hand holding the rose and pulls her towards the exit, making her stumble in her heels. 

“Gabriel! What are you doing? You can’t just—”

“Abduct you from work and take you out on a date?” He can’t hold back his grin. 

Her eyes go round, and he can see her wrestling with what to do as they head out onto the street.  _ Come on,  _ he thinks.  _ Let me have the old Nathalie.  _ The spontaneous Nathalie, who dances in the kitchen, who sleeps with the sheets off, who never turns down an adventure. 

She looks down. “I suppose, but I swear to god, Gabriel, if I get fired for this...” a tiny corner of her mouth turns up, “...but it’s better than being yelled at by clients.” 

“That’s the spirit,” he says, and then they’re both running down the sidewalk, with her asking him to tell her where they’re going. He loves the way the light starts returning to her eyes. 

* * *

Gabriel holds open the door to the Ferris wheel car for Nathalie. The sun was dipping below the horizon, and it had been her idea to ride the Roue de Paris to witness its setting. 

Today had been the best day Gabriel could remember since forever. The city had become their playground and they had taken full advantage: heading to the top of the Eiffel tower to roll their eyes at the tourists, strolling in the gardens of Versailles, eating at Nathalie’s favorite restaurant, and then going to André’s famous ice cream.

_ “Vanilla for a man who enjoys the simple things in life. Blackberry for a woman who is sweet, but has a bite. Then finally, strawberry, for a romance like the storybooks you read at night, _ ” the man had proclaimed while carefully assembling their cone, handing it to them with a flourish. 

André was right, Gabriel thinks as he watches Nathalie stare at the lights of Paris as they soar over the skyline. Her hair is falling out of her bun in thick strands, her suit is rumpled, and she’s folded her jacket over her arm, leaving her in just her turtleneck. The gesture feels like she’s removed a piece of armor, and he can see her softer side. 

The car rocks to a stop at the top of the wheel and the city’s summer noises fall quiet. The orange glow of the horizon reflects off the dark ribbon of the river, and in their piece of the sky, time stands still. 

He looks at her sitting next to him, “I’m so glad you’re not mad at me anymore.” 

She looks away and her face falls, “One good day doesn’t make up for a past of bad ones,” she replies, matter-of-factly, and his heart sinks. She continues, “...but let’s not ruin right now.” 

Nathalie looks at the ground far below, and he sees in her face that she wishes she hadn’t as she sits back. 

“Come closer,” he says softly, and she does. They watch the night sky in silence, and he melts when her head bumps gently to rest against his shoulder. 

This was it. This felt right.

* * *

They take a cab home and walk up the stairs together. Nathalie is drooping against his shoulder by the time he’s turning the key to let them in. She’s still in her work clothes and heels. It had been years that he “abducted” her from work in the sunny afternoon; it had been a lifetime. She kicks off her shoes and crawls into their bed, turning towards him with sleepy eyes. 

“Are you coming?” 

“In a minute, dearest,” he replies from his desk, the lamp on low. She nods and rolls over, soon fast asleep. 

He won’t be going to bed, Gabriel decides. If he can stay up, perhaps he can break the cycle. He desperately wants her to remember today because it felt like a step in the right direction. 

He opens to a fresh sketchbook page and absentmindedly draws a few lines, which become the sleeping form of his wife. The balcony dimly lights the room with the glow of the streetlamps. Their wedding portrait hangs in the corner, and Gabriel knows they have a chance.

But there’s only so much sleep deprivation a body can take, and without realizing it, he drifts off as the sun rises. 


	7. Day 14

The buzzing of the alarm clock pulls him out of his slumber as it has every morning. The faint sounds of Nathalie moving throughout the apartment snap him out of his haze. His hands instinctively dart to his sketchbook, desperate to see the drawing from the previous day.

The page is blank.

Gabriel feels his rage boil over, and he sends the book flying across the space. He’s lost another day, Nathalie has forgotten everything, and his hellscape continues on. A small yelp captures his attention, and he turns to see his wife next to the strewn pages.

“What did the book do?” She eyes him as she glides over to the coffee pot, and the motion brings the previous day washing over him. 

She’s the answer, and he needs to fix this. Fix them.

“Nathalie,” he walks up to her, leaning against the counter.

“Yes?”

“Can you play hooky today?” Nathalie sets down her mug before turning to him with knitted eyebrows.

“Gabriel, you know that I—”

“—have meetings with important clients. I know,” he can see the shock on her face, and he can’t tell if it's from the fact that he finished her sentence or that he remembered what was going on in her life. He intertwines his fingers in hers, and she looks down to see how nicely they fit together.

“Then you know I can’t—”

“Please,” the desperation in his voice shakes her to her core, “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Your design, you need to…”

“I’ll explain in a minute.” Gabriel takes the travel mug away and pours the coffee into a regular cup, adding her usual sugar and cream before handing it back, “Will you stay?”

Nathalie looks between her husband and the cup before reaching out. There’s something in Gabriel’s tone that tells her that it’s important.

Gabriel feels a sense of relief wash over him as her fingers wrap around the warm ceramic. She’s staying. She’s choosing him.

They move to the couch after Nathalie calls into work, faking an illness. If she hadn’t been such a natural at business, she would've made a wonderful actress. As they settle in, still some distance between them, their eyes meet.

“Okay, Gabriel,” She takes a sip of her coffee, her ring glittering in the soft morning light, “talk.”

He tells her about the last two weeks of reliving the same day, everything except knowing about her desire for a divorce. Nathalie sits in silence, giving him no indication of her thoughts.

Once he’s done, he waits. Nathalie simply takes a deep breath before calmly rising. Out of nowhere, she takes the empty coffee mug and throws it against the wall, shattering it. He winces at the sharp sound and her icy glare.

“Was this just some intricate way to tell me you’ve lost it, and you’ve been cheating on me?”

“I didn’t cheat on you!” Gabriel reaches for her hand, but Nathalie snatches it away.

“I’m sorry,” She rolls her eyes while crossing her arms, “did I mishear you? Didn’t you say that was the first thing you did when you realized you were in a ‘loop?’”

Her air quotes get to him, so he stands to put them on an even playing field, “Well, can you blame me? How long have you been thinking about a divorce?”

Nathalie freezes, “How...how did you know that I was…?”

“Because that’s how every argument ended! You screaming at me that you wanted one!” Gabriel feels his heart clench as he replays the arguments, _“How long?”_

“A year.” Her answer takes his breath away.

“A year?” 

She responds with a nod as her arms wrap around herself.

“Oh.” Gabriel falls to the couch in defeat.

Upon seeing his defeated posture, Nathalie shifts uncomfortably, unsure whether to comfort him or leave. After all, he wasn’t making sense.

“Maybe you just need some sleep. You’ve been working day in and day out, so maybe—”

“I don’t want to sleep, Nathalie!” Gabriel abruptly stands and runs his hands through his hair as he looks at their wedding portrait. It brings a sense of despair that causes him to turn back to Nathalie, pointing at the frame. “I want to get back to them. I can't do anything if you aren't by my side.”

“Gabriel,” Nathalie’s voice is soft as she looks at him, eyes brimming with tears, “I don’t know if we can ever be them again.”

Her words hit him like a ton of bricks, and the weight causes him to fall to the floor. His body is wracked with sobs as he lets all of his emotions go. His grief. His anger and hatred. His uncertainties. Upon seeing him break down, Nathalie goes over and pulls him into her arms. Her hands stroke his back as he violently shakes, and at this moment, she realizes that he’s probably not lying. Gabriel Agreste doesn’t cry.

“I just want you to love me.” Gabriel’s voice is weak and muffled as he buries his face deeper into her chest.

“I don’t _not_ love you, Gabriel,” Nathalie pauses to let herself process. “If you want this to work **,** _really_ then we both need to make some changes.”

He vigorously nods without hesitation because he’d do anything for her.

“Okay.” She places a kiss onto his forehead and threads their fingers together as they gather their thoughts.

Gabriel takes a deep breath before looking up, “What do you need?”

“I know we need my job for your brand to succeed. I want you to be able to take design commissions, but,” she looks away, “I need a break. I don’t want to come home from my shitty job wondering what else I have to do. I spend all day doing what people order me to do, and I can’t remember the last time anyone said ‘thank you’ or ‘good job.’ From my bosses, I don’t expect that, but from my husband...I do.”

He cringes at her accusation, knowing she’s right. “I’m sorry.”

“I just,” Nathalie lets out a sigh, “when was the last time we had a meal together, Gabriel? Slept in the same bed?” 

“A long time.” Gabriel thinks back on the previous day and how nice it had been. He can’t remember the last time they’d gone out on a date.

“Exactly,” She gently squeezes his hand, “I think we both need a break.”

“You’re right.” 

“Now, what about you?” 

His mind goes blank when he realizes that all of his needs seem to pale in comparison to hers, “It doesn’t matter. We should just—”

“No,” Nathalie grabs his chin and forces him to look at her, “your needs matter, too, and I can’t improve if you don’t talk to me.” 

Her sentiment causes his heart to swell, “I guess I need you to communicate with me. I want to be there for you, but if you don’t tell me...I don’t know. I’m not a mind reader, Nathalie.”

“I can set some boundaries.” The warmth that spreads through them reminds them of when they met.

“I have one more request,” Gabriel turns his attention to their wedding portrait, “can we move that closer to the bed?”

“Okay.” The two set about moving the portrait, and they look at it with a smile. Gabriel pulls her close. Their lips are a whisper apart when the phone rings.

_5:14 PM._

Where had the day gone?

“That’s Audrey.”

“How do you—?”

“My day has been a repetitive nightmare, remember?” Gabriel picks it up with apprehension before turning back to his wife. “I’ll prove it. Will you believe me if I can quote her?”

“I don’t...” She looks at the phone with concern, “I’m not sure—”

“Please, Nathalie,” he pulls her to sit on the bed.

“Okay.”

Gabriel answers, “Hello.” 

“Gabriel, darling. How are you?” Audrey’s voice warbles into the room, and he mouths it exactly, beat for beat. Nathalie’s face goes whiter with every perfectly-matched word. 

He takes a breath and says his next line, “I’m fine, I just finished my—”

“Good, good!” She cuts him off, and he says the next line with her, “I just wanted to let you know I’m pulling you from the show.” 

“Stop. Stop it!” Nathalie presses her hands to her ears and turns away, “Gabriel, that’s creepy.” 

“Do you believe me now?” 

Audrey’s voice is yelling into the space, trying to bring Gabriel’s attention back to her, _“Hello? Gabriel? Darling? Answer me!”_

He hangs up, his eyes pleading with Nathalie to understand his nightmare. 

“Yes.” Relief washes over him, and he pulls her towards him, his lips covering hers.

* * *

The sun vanishes as Gabriel and Nathalie settle into bed. The balcony doors are open, letting the warm summer breeze flow in with the soft lights of Paris. For the first time in weeks, Gabriel’s at peace with Nathalie’s back pressing against his chest as he plays with her hair.

“Do you really think we can fix us?” Her face is cradled in the crook of her elbow.

“I think we can do anything together.” 

She nods, snuggling closer, but exhaustion finally wins out and she’s fast asleep. Gabriel manages to fight it longer and leans over to whisper into her ear. 

“I can’t lose you, Nathalie. I love you too much to lose you.”


	8. The End

The soft beeping causes Gabriel to stir.

_That isn’t Nathalie’s alarm._

His eyes flutter open to take in a pristine white room before falling closed again.

_This isn’t his apartment._

But wait. He and Nathalie had gone to bed together; where was he now? 

Pain shoots through his body when he tries to move. That’s when he realizes that there’s someone next to him, holding his hand. 

“I can’t lose you, Gabriel. I love you too much to lose you.”

_Nathalie loves him._

_She still loves him._

That’s when everything comes flooding back.

_The fight. The bar. The accident. The loop._

He lets out a groan, and he hears Nathalie’s breath hitch at the sound.

“Gabriel?”

His eyes flutter open again to see Nathalie’s familiar ocean-blue ones.

“Hey there. Long time no see.” Gabriel smiles at her, and sees the relief flood her face as her tears begin to fall.

“Thank goodness.” She presses a kiss onto his forehead before backing away, “Hold on, I have to get the doctor.”

She soon reappears with an unfamiliar man, who starts to check him while Nathalie stands back. The doctor calmly explains that he had been in an accident two nights before and starts to list his injuries, but Gabriel’s eyes don’t leave Nathalie.

“Do you have any questions, Mister Agreste?” Gabriel turns his attention back to the doctor and shakes his head.

“No; my wife listens better anyway.”

“I’m sure.” The doctor glances at Nathalie in amusement and she chuckles. “You’re lucky to have her. She hasn’t left your side since you arrived.”

“Oh, I’m very aware.” Gabriel reaches for her, and Nathalie sits at his side and takes his hand.

“You’ll be here a few more days, but press the button if you need me.” The couple bid the doctor farewell before turning their attention back to each other.

“Gabriel, I am so—”

“No,” Gabriel squeezes her hand. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a shit husband, and I’m sorry for not being more appreciative.”

“Gabriel—” 

The doctor’s words finally sink in, “Wait, did he say two nights ago?”

“Yes,” Nathalie raises an eyebrow. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s been two weeks. I've lived that day fourteen times.” Gabriel looks at her with wide eyes, “I started keeping track after the fourth day.”

“Gabriel, what are you talking about?” He raises his bed to look at her more directly.

“If I tell you everything, will you listen?”

“Of course.” 

Gabriel painfully shifts, making enough room for her to join him while Nathalie carefully moves the wires and tubes. She kicks off her shoes before climbing into the bed.

“So, after our fight, I woke up the next morning to your _stupid_ alarm clock…” Nathalie calmly listens to his story, occasionally asking questions, but mainly staying quiet as he recounts his fever dream. By the end, all she knows is that Gabriel is alive and willing to try to fix their marriage, and those are the only two things she cares about right now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge shoutout to Kr15xxx for putting up with us and editing when we went down to the wire.
> 
> 3000 words is a lot to cut, but we feel like we’re presenting the best version of our story.
> 
> Also, we need to thank the most important person in this process, and that’s TyeDye. She not only made us one but TWO amazing pieces of art along with more for our banner. PLEASE PLEASE go check out her tumblr [here](https://tehhappypl-ace.tumblr.com/post/638317843841236992/fic-time-and-time-again-author-maybemayura) and give her all of the love. She deserves it. Also, she named the damn fic, and we couldn’t have wished for a better title.
> 
> Also, May , you beautiful human. Thank you for writing this with me. I know we had our struggles, but we came out as better friends and writers. I love you so so much. I will always fight you on adverbs, thats, and fragments just like you will fight me with buts, ands, and weird vocab. I couldn’t have asked for a better co-writer, and let’s do this again...with a bigger word limit.
> 
> As mentioned before, this piece was conceived in crack and nourished by the power of excessive screeching. This is friendship, y’all. Here are some alternate titles and an alternate summary: “My boss wasn’t going to let me leave early just because my husband is an idiot!” 
> 
> The Start: May, oh god, May, what have we done?  
> Day 1: Confusion  
> Day 2: Gabriel, you stupid bitch  
> Day 3: Fuck Emilie  
> Day 4-12: Fuck Audrey  
> Day 13: “Gabriel is just so fucking dumb”  
> Day 14: They’re Both Dumb, TaLK aBOuT YouR FeELiNGs  
> The End: Fucking finally
> 
> The alternate title of fic: KMA and May are so good at words (aka we are really bad at them)


End file.
